The Sun. — London, England, 1838-08-05 00:00:00

Quartre Bras; but the English retained the sition they had occupied, though they suf., fered great loss, including the Duke of Bruns wick, who was a gallant soldier, and universally regretted. Bonaparte, after defeating Blucher, directed a large part of his troops towards Nen, with the view of forcing the position of Quartre Bras. But the Duke of Wellington, on learn ing the retreat of Blucher on the morning of the 17th, knew that he must also fall back, and having masqued his intentions in a masterly manner, he retreated to preserve his com munications with the Prussians, and took up new ground on the field of Waterloo. There, on the 18th of June, Bonaparte, at the head of about 76,000 men, directed all to that point, assailed Wellington, who on the same spot bad r collected about 74,000 men. It was towards n9on when the advance of the French began, and the village of Hougomont was the object of their attack. From that time till nightfall, the rival Generals continued to direct with all their energy all their forces as they could bring them to bear, to wrest, or to retain that single spot. Tremendous was the continued roar of artillery; the trampling of horses, the furious charges of cavalry and infantry; the oaths, the shouts, the shrieks, andthe cursings ; till finally, Bonaparte, as his last effort, led his guard to the assault. Hi; guard, the firmest soldiers of France, was defeated and repulsed ; terror then seized his brave troops; the Prus sians had again advanced on the field—had driven before them the corps appointed to keep them in check—and Buonaparte then seeing all was lost, fled from the field. On this memorable day,- Wellington placed nimseif near a remarkable tree in the centre of his position, and watching every part of the battle, directed his masses to the points where they were most required. More than once he rallied some of his retreating troops, and more than once be led fresh forces to the attack. One sees in Bonaparte's manoeuvres a great principle—that of sending his masses to one point—and the knowledge of his mode of attack taught Wellington to defeat him. Never for one moment did the illuatrious Commander waver, and he owes this great victory—first, to his own unflinching dogged resolution—and next to that steady firmness and unyieldingness which s the distinguishing characteristic of the troops be commanded. All military men give Bonaparte great praise for his tactics, and it seems generally to be their opinion that, with any other General than one so excessively firm as Wellington, and with any other troops than the English, Bonaparte would have been victo rious. The loss of human life in this great battle, which may be said to have lasted three days, and in the retreat of the French, which soon assumed' the character of a flight, it is im possible to ascertain. Of the English and German Legion alone upwards of 11,000 men and 700 officers fell, killed or wounded on the field ; and including the Prussians and the rest of the force, probably not less than 20,000 of the Allies were killed and wounded on the 18th. Probably the loss of life during the three days' fighting was on their side not less than 40,000 men ; and on the side of the enemy it might on the whole be double that amount. We are now enabled to estimate better than at the time the advantages of this brilliant success ; and one mourns—one weeps at discovering that so much bravery—such consummate skill—such vast energy, which might have enriched and adorned the world, and such an immense waste of human life, should have tended to so little good. We, who have lived to see the results of that victory, know that it gave no free dom to mankind; that those who triumphed over Bonaparte, were more desirous of seizing his power and imitating his tyranny, than of conferring happiness on their subjects. The broken promises of almost all Europe's Kings—the fierce assaults which the political allies of the Duke of Wellington in England, the Castlereaghs, and the Sidmouths made on our liberties—the reluctance with which the Duke himself ever conceded any freedom to the people, make us now say that that great battle, for aught, except the lesson it taught us to mistrust all those, whatever may be their names, style, titles, and professions, who gain or keep power by the sword, was fought in vain. It was no gain to the liberty of Europe. Prussia was victorious, and Prussia has a raill ery despotism as iron as that of Bonaparte. The brave Hanoverians laid down their lives only now to be trampled on as the serfs of Prince Ernest ; and the British were compelled, in 1830 to conquer Wellington-- the Conqueror—under the influence of a second revolution In Prance, not to get extended liberties, but to preserve what we before had. The great battle of Waterloo, in which our blood flowed so profusely, did ' for us little more than rivet on us the fet ters of the Corn-law-making Aristocracy and an unchristian Church. For such results--for restoring the dominion of the Bourbons and the priests in France—for replacing in strength the old aristocracy of blood in Germany—and re leasing from apprehension the new aristocracy of wealth in Britain—the battle, however much we admire the skill and the bravery by which it was won, was rather to be deplored than admired. We mention the Duke of Wellington's pro ceeding to Paris immediately after the battle, and taking an active part in the settling the political affairs of the world, to notice the as sertions that were then and for some time made against him, for having allowed Marshal Ney to be shot. The Convention of Paris, to which he was a party, was made with the Allies, and it pledged them not to molest any one on account of political opinions. The French in terpreted it to pledge Louis XVIII., whom • th© Allies imposed on them, and who was their vassal, to the same conditions, but be refused' to abide by them. He caused Labedoyere and' Ncy to be tried and executed, and they ap pealed particularly the latter, to the Con vention of Paris, and to Wellington for pro tection. Their appeal was disregarded, and they were shot. Now we do not say that the Duke should have prevented this—it might have been beyond his power—but we never heard that he tried. He might have been on that occasion coldly just--there is no proof that he was obtrusively generous. He might have done his duty; he made no professions of humanity. or of sparing the blood of the the brave. We know what the defence of such policy is; but it is impossible now to persuade mankind, that for a victorious party to take the lives of their opponents, on the pretext of preserving the authority of the law, and of punishing treason, is anything but vengeful murder. Nor does experience justify the act. The Bourbons have all the opprobrium of it on their memory, but they have not pre served their throne. It justly excited hatred and dread, and was the first of that series of violent acts, the consequences of embracing ultra-legitimate doctrines, which aroused young France at length agaiwt them, and made them again exiles from their country. Forbear ance and generosity sparing Nev, which fools call weakness, might have preserved France for the Bowl - os. The share of ti-c Duke of Wellington in that lamentable butchery, if it reflect no. discredit on him, certainly cannot be told to bi. honour. After the fleet:path - at of Paris by the Allied troops, the Duke of Wellington took en active part in all the negoeiations aid treaties on uh.ch the p resent settlement of Europe was estahltshtd, and shone as i conspicuously in performing the d ut i es o f a Statesman as those of (4,•tieral. This reference to the functions which at that time devolvid on the Deke as the representa tive of England in the discu ss i ons at Paris for se ttling the affairs cf Europ e , brings to our minds an aticiiote of his Grace whilst actingiu 04 capacity, which is so striking an example of his forbearance. firmness, and disintere ste a_ tress than we think it riOtt to state it, e s p ec i a i ly as it has hitherto come to the knowledge 'of a very limited. p-,:rtion. of the public. At a very early eimfure.cee ,tha Ministers of the 'Allies Pt Paris, the tithitister of the King of the Netherlactls , put the direct question to the Duke of Wellington, bether he had received soy instructions 'rota, or knew the intentions of his Court.as to the integrity nr demon ion of the galleries, to which the Duke distinctly re plied, that be had not received .uly instructions Jrnm his Court upon the subject, and as his Court did not,interfeie wi:h the galleries emthe former occasion (meaning upon the first resters-. lion of the Bourbons), he had no reason to suppose they would interfere ou the present oc c-stun. This seem e d to be received as satis factory at the moment, aml nothing- further was said upuu it at that time, Lot, at a subsequent conference, a cuns,iderable time afterwards, the Minister of that King of th e N etherlands re newed the subject, and stated to the surprise of all present, that a positiv.e promis e bad been made by the, King of France (Luis XVIII.) during the short period of Bonaparte's to his Master the King re sumption a the throne, of the NetherlandF, that if he (Louis), ai n , u ld ever recover the Crown, he would .restore ,to the King of the Netherlands, all the works of art beloginFf to Holland and Belgium, Which were then in the Louvre, and that as all mu ters connected with the settlement of affair s lintAreci tken t 4 be bicugtt to Lt factory conclusion, he considered it proper that he should, without further delay, insist upon the performance of the. King's promise in this respect to his master. Upon this disclosure, Marshal Blucher, as the representative of Prussia, declared, that if the works of art belonging to the Kingdom of the Netherlands, were to be restored to_the King of those countries, he (Marshal Blucher) must insist upon a similar restoration being made to his master, the King of Prussia. These two claims having been so strongly put forward, the Duke of Wellington felt that it was his duty in fairness to all interests concerned to require without any further loss of time, that in the event of the King of the Netherlands and the King of Prussia being allowed the works of art in the Louvre belonging to them respectively, an option should be secured for all other Powers interested in the same question to reclaim suelt works as belonged to them if they should think proper to do so. The requi sition of the two first mentioned claimants being adhered to, it soon became evident that the dissolution of the galleries was inevitable, . and serious discussions on the subject immediately ensued between the Duke of Wellington and the Duke de Richlieu, at that time the Prime Minister of France. From the Duke de Richlieu he obtained no satisfactory decision, and subsequently had au audience of the King, which was as little decisive in its result ; the effectual part of the King's promise was evaded, and the Duke was again referred by his Majesty to the Duke de Richlieu upon this momentous and still undecided question. • By the Duke de Richlieu the Duke was at length referred to Denon (the principal officer of the Government as regarded the Fine Arts). A great deal of discussion ensued, and ultimately, when Denon found that there appeared to be no eseepe from thisdemand upon the French Government, he said to the Duke. If you are to have the galleries you must take them. This settled the question, and a guard, either Fnelish or Austrian, or both, was immediately placed over the Louvr e , ' el preparations made for re moving all these works which were claime d an f inconsequence of the origi nal promise of Louis XVIII. to the K i ng t he n o ce. Netherlands. The ex. traordinary excitement which this occurrenc e must be impressed upon the memory of maninstElnl.l7(ischrnetaetnedwihnoPwaerirt at that time in that city. The bitter hatred man y the Prussi ans an t the e d French, appeared to be superseded by the virulence whic h mi tse lf i n a f e w hours against th e E ng li s h on this occasion, assthe supposed to the v anity i n t y pp a e n a d , s exultation fro lo t h o enlaCtudt,,d with resp ec t to t h ese bi4 pe h s i e e d h a th u e th F ocs en o c f h tl h ii a s d fo arlriataidyasbl be en iu possess ions; and the Duke of Wellington, who, above true statement of facts to have been perfectly immeetit 'of ar,y • spoatirricous assault upon the Louvre, became the subject of the most unmeasured and opprobrious invective. From this unmerited and painful position the Duke could in an instant have relieved himself, and have transferred the fury to which he was exposed to the red instigators of the movement, it' he had chosen to state the fart, that Louis XVIII. had falsified his word by fist voluntarily Fromising in part to demolish the galleries, and then practically opposing the ex ecution of that promise; but it needed not one-tenth part of the pene tration and sagacity of the Duke of Wellington to enable him clearly tv foresee what would have bcch the caet upon the interests THE SUN, LONDON, SUNDAY, AUGUST 5, 1838, of that monarch and his crown, and probably to all Europe, if in statue, that Canova was so well pleased with its resemblance to the ! title in his discipline. His soldiers had great confidence in h im the entn, dr: : personal then th e t lexcited,is interest e a d ri nin s such a disclosure had been made. original ' that he express ed to our infcrmaut the strongest interest we believe they never loved him. He had no sym h p we a do t r h dl y ikten with them, o t state h e r havee x o t f r a b o P e r " y i n , been aryinstane fi e, in d whic h . private . feeling !in tidsprod.uction of his chisel, and explained to him that the sea- and they none with him. He never joked orlau nobly sacrt cx by this high-minded ! son why the statue had remained at the Hotel de Ville in- Paris,• said even, that we have ever heard, a real' friendly e) his Pa ck, in the faithful and intrepid discharge of what ho felt to be till the entrance of the Allied armies into that city, without the case He was just, but not kindly nor affectionate; a severe mas ter, tie never his paramount duty to the general interests of those for and with i ever i ts op.sned, was, merely, that the habitual supersti • a companion. If he attended to th e ir comforts, it was as a and greatest success more honours than 1. whom he was called upon to act. machinist which Bonaparte so subject bad induced him to, forbid oils his machine, not that be thinks of the iron suffering from the • e• of the was For Isis last yet his ha I pre. ! the openin n figure of solely because when he understood that the f r i c ti on , b u t th a t to oil it will make the engine last longer, and vioualy enjoyed could scarcely be heaped on himis grateful ' small antique te „ fi atue bat f i N it i s eto b r , y , ' k wh t i n c r h a st d ands upo i n h t . he o a r:: i h t a n d e right lose . le s s power. So in his evidence before the Military Commis country increased " the noblest gift" that any subj e ct ever tion to ang•s s h i n o r n 4 , . he spoke i or his army as if it were a charif t with a team of ver . r k eceived. hand of ts h The thanks of both Houses were again. oted to j hi m , shoulders, lie was ' fearful that e it would h i e m construed in vi t( ' ) e had it so well in my hand, that I could have gone twelfth time that honour had been conferred on him. It mg the upon , its victory had fled, or would fl y, from him , and therefore' I with it(driven • _m. lad been omen that it) all over the world." Such a feature, we r i • gret found by the trustees appointed to carry allowanybodyin P • •' .1 andthus it is • out the purposes of the would not - • . ngs, and is not amiable . grants of money voted by Parliameut, that theofloo,oool. • kablc that this statue which Napoleon rejected as ominous of l lf we sum ( which was all that was then available for the . purpose of building defsat is nos in the possession of his Con • 1 • •1 I Conqueror —a lasting memorial consummate skill undeviat . I ter, y its own a suitable mansion-house for the I)uke) was insufficient to accosts- of Victory. . 1B • , ing y successful, and that he con quered , Bonaparte , the *conqueror of many nations , plish that object in a manner suited to the occasion ; asd as soon, there Having ,now brought his military career to a close, we may be . )ers 1 us to say, much we think to his discredit, that a regard to truth com fore, as the news of his last great victory reached F l d the I.' - 1 ' dto observe .ng an . .sar. permitted that his course was one of unexamnled, u • . ranter- tail from the ea , which, he never cut one of Lit erpool, as first Minister of the Crown, and Lord Castlereagh rupted, unchecked succes s . • From first receiving hi s E„ s i gney, till hi _ . . to the eternal disgrace of England, and by s T a n dvice, still larterates the backs of the conquerors of the world. . then Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs , in their respective places be stood the conqueror of the great hero of the age, he never met in the House of Lords and the House of Commons, stated that three with one serious reverse. The tide of prosperity colic lev • e Earl of Peterborough was a hero from romance—Gu-t v Adolphus from religions Fl US —Bonaparte from ambition—Wellington from architects who had been consulted, bad givers it as their decided • • h him, and carried him to the very highest paint. We know cr ' opt- on with ' duty. In all his dis patches nion, that a mansion worthy the occasion , could not be built f or l ess no ot h er instance, ancient or modern, in military lila.. , generally sup..-a t o t a • which we have noticed, in all his answers e too Houses of Parliament, the sentiment of duty is predomi than 200,0001., and accordingly proposed ••to the two Houses an ad. posed to be very checquered, of such complete and undeviating - ' ' . sue- ' nant. It is, " I have only exerted myself to serve his ./sla'• , and . 14 sty, ditional grant to that amount, for the express purpose of erecting a C ess .....a .success always independent of fortune, and always achieved I shall always mansion-house which should be alike a lasting. memorial of tlimu g ns by skill.' - - life it country." AO well for England at least, perhaps well for the world, cendant public services of the Duke, and of she g rist tode and„ifi_ _l n c ivil life it resembles , we think, the care er . of watt who • • it o n , : - as so ; for, if the Dake's mighty talents for war had been animated cence of this great nation, in rewarding those services; the grant !beginning a mere mathematical instrument maker, marched ;e t ( t ),.. adily ! by burning ambition, instead of being directe I by a sense of duty, was voted not only w i t ho u t a dissentient voice, but with cordial aecl aran , and an deviatinal.Y forward , till he was the first machinis t the with the feeble things that have for sonic. 3 ears been on the thrones tion. With the additional sum an estate, Strathfieldsaye, was p i , wo rld, aed having reached the very top of his . profession spent of Enrops, instead cf being only one of the first subjects of Queen chased, to be held by him and heirs on condition of presenting a t h e l as t years of a long life in ease, and opulence, and hono ur. The Victoria, he might possibly have been the master of the world. tri.coloured fl ag to the Sovereign at. Windsor Castle on the 18th comparisol. however apparently inappropriate,. is not day of June on every year. this foreig n h onours and titles were. . for tile assn" qualities of mind predominated in both, ill and were the or sorrow like feebler mein Captain Sharer, in his memoirs of the increased—he was made a Russian and Austrian Field Marshal, an d d eme nts C O f their success. Both had a strong . riot to be turned Duke, mentions that on the night of the bat:le of Waterloo, Welling received from the King of the Netherlands the title of Peiatte of a s ide by diflietthica — heth were calm, ca l cul i at t . ' lacing, , and- r •fiecti a ton repeatedly leaned hack upon his chair, and, rubbing his banes Waterloo. . both were precise and accurate in a remarkable - ' ,an ' n ' — degree • b oat were convulsively, exclaimed aloud, " Thank God, I have met hint I Thank Among the testimonials of his greatness, which be possesses, and bold and niterprising, and both triumphed ; the one tac one over inert God, I have met him ! And ever as he spoke, the smile that lighted up the high distinctions conferretl upon him, may ben/tied, the marble .matter, and the other over living men, I Both t h e uni ) . Y ed. elearness and • de- his eye was immediately dimmed by those few and hie. tears that gush statue of Bonaparte sculptured by Canova, during the Period o f , ii n iti v enesi of their conceptions. in an eminent degree, warm from 'a grateful heart." Such an incident, and it is the only the• short peace, w hich took place in 1801, arid which having beer and possessed them at all times, never ' forgetting themselves for a one of the kind we are acquainted with, connects the Duke, though presented by the King of France (Louis XVIII.) to the Prince Re.. • mamen t, great sagacity in devisina a their measures, and equal pru- but very slightly, a ith the feelings of ordinary mortals. His tears flowed gent of Eogland, was transferred by his Royal Highness to the i denee in exscuting t h ant , from a d rew but selfish sense, probably, that he then reached the eery Duke of Wellington, and was carried into Apslev House, in the very ' Wellington gained no victories like Bonaparte, of human fame It seems that the by exciting t he summit desire to meet was mutual. case in which it was originally conveyed from Rome to Pari s , th at . ena h as inan of his saldiers. We ,chow " I said Bonaparte, *' ow of too fortunate 'General his go," as he threw himself into his carriage to join case never having b een ev e n o pened between the lime of its first ai rival w h o had less of the nhand, i.„.. -" sto measure m • sir with Wni , sof the generousness, less of the arm s ', I ;,,, myself .. e...111p0n." ' in the French capit a l a nd the capture of that city by the Allies. : c hivalry which is usually th, ! re d,,,,i..,, ,His Grace'spersonal coura , 4 • • .. caaracteristie of the Woo ly Highly honou la bl e as the possession of this trophy is to the Duke ' trade of the soldier. We spe a k of l . hi nt as . a s oldier, and say there because' 'he teas himself never valued it highly, e and hits always beau ' we should am ong a ll t h e ot h er more pran nnent an d important disa is not one particle of the s' us. ahvap; to heave work ; l m l4 a, tic in his character. He seems to conspietions for not speaking of himself. Within our immediate rec t tinctions heaped upon his Grace, probable not have mentioned it, wish the precision of oat! of Watt's lectiOn, though we say troth of the morality of either a'ti ' ' b;:t for a remarkable circumstance conne c ted with it, which is highlyengines; and, as if he ' . , characteristie of his gnat g ' r—Na I W'. po con. ' e I.IION 'COM-a mathematical aece a , ta aey by some all powerful machinist, he never i Winthilea having proof. Lord gentleman to whom ea "la .°l"beastly oil the Canova himself communicated the facts, that went wrong. Duke, his,Grace in consequence sent Sir Henr y • - tlardinge t 9 demand that artist ha several ' • f N sittings rota apolcon for the head of this This liardncz, rigidness, ' • and mathematical accuracy were percep- an explanstion, ar.4 He satisfactory 1 • • exp anation being given, a challenge on the part of - the Duke enrledton moving for an additional grant to his Grace, on June 23, 1815, the Chancellor of the Exchequer said he knew from private communications, that the Duke's personal exertions at the battle of Waterloo transcended all his former achieve ments. "At a critical period of the battle he took possession of a high ridge, from which he declared that he would never stir, nor did he stir, until he quitted it inlriumph. M another period, when his position was strongly attacked, he threw himself into the centre of a square of infantry, which was furiously charged by the enemy's cavalry, and which, fortunately fur his country and the world, resisted the shock with dauntless intrepitlity." " I mention these things," said the officer, " because they are pre cisely those of which you will not find one word in his dispatches.. Every person around him was either killed or wounded." A similar undaunted courage, united with a similar mo dest silence as to his own achievements, per vades his whole life ; and the latter qualitY perhaps goes far to account for the great want of personal anecdotes concerning him in all the memoirs of his military achievements with which we are acquainted. We had intended.to have said something of the Duke's civil career since 1815, which in our estimation, comparing him with other statesmen, is as brilliant as his military career , though, judging him by what is now required of a statesman, he has been very deficient; but the extent of this article commands us so stop. We shall only say that, as Ambassa dor abroad, as Commander-in-Chief of the Army, as Master-General of the Ordnance , as First Lord of the Treasury, and F'rirne Minister, all ofarhich posts he has tilled, lie has been distinguished for a punctual and unre mitting attention to his duties. The game talents, however, which suffice to wield an arm' —the creature of the human will—are not sufficient to rule society in the yet imperfect and incomplete creation of the Divine will, and in making the attempt, the Duke . met with the only great defeat he ever encoun tered. The battle of Waterloo was not more disastrous to the military reputation of Bona parte than the battle of Reform was to the civil wisdom of the Duke of Wellington. _lt 'dethroned him and disenchanted the world , almost 'disposed to believe that he was in all things invulnerable and invincible. But this part of his history is of such recency, that it is less necessary to dwell on it ; and opinions are yet so conflicting about it, that we are not sorry to be spared entering into further detail. His Grace, as we have mentioned above, has received a noble fortune from his grateful country. In addition he holds, and long may he hold, -a considerable number of lucrative military appointments. His clear income, therefore, is probably very large. It is under stood that he maintains a well regulated but not sordid economy, suitable to his rank ; and that never having been since his return from India a poor man, and having of late been a saving man, be is now a rich man. There is scarcely, however, another man of equal wealth in the world, certainly not in England , who so well merits all he possesses. Passing over his civil services with this brief allusion, we shall conclude by noticing the latest public scene of his life. He defeated Marshal Soult in the Peninsula and in France—he has embraced him in London. Herein he gained the greatest of his victories--a victory over the prejudices of his life and his party. He never appeared more illustrious in the eyes of his countrymen than when, forgetting all ancien t rivalries, and s purning all the croaking seduc tions of low party malice, he gave a cordial and an affectionate welcome to the man who nex t to himself is the greatest soldier alive. i r° commemorate that great event, we publish the splendid portraits of those two heroes, and vie have drawn up these memoirs of their live'. We terminate our notice of the Duke, by an, ardent prayer that the peace and the union et the two countries which they respectively adorn , and of which their appearing together in our paper this day is a type, may be at 'east as last; ,ing as has been heretofore the animosity and the national separation. We have to regret that this article was iii type before the Monthly Chronicle, which con tains a very good notice of the Duke, fell into our hands. Had we previously seen that article, we should have been able, we believe, to make our own more acceptable to,-,- 11 ',, a reader. With the letter, whit-ii - The Chronicle has 'presdrved, of Geo. IV. t o the Duke of Wellington, on sending him the Mar shall's staff, we cannot refrain from enriching our columns. It does honour to the King as well as the Duke : Tr AI PRI( Srt -~ Sim pa k)e ., 4 A ner?, 2 prihien4 Joi With a inhabit. ~-- O ur tiortr a i I •IXGT 111 this To co Well as 0 11 r ow pr opos , 13aPer. , W eb the My dear Lord—Your glorious conduct Is beyond all human praise, and far above my reward : I know no language the world affords worthy to express it. I feel, I have nothing left to say, but devoutly to oar up my prayers of gratitude to Providence, that it has in its omnipotent bounty blessed my country and myself with such a General. You nave sent me, among the trophies of your unrivalled fame, the staff et French Marshal, and I send you in return that of Eng land. The British army will hail it with enthusiasm, while the whole universe will acknowledge those valorous efforts which have so imperiously called for it. That uninterrupted health, and still increasing laurels, may continue to crown you through a &de! s and long career of life, are the never-ceasing and r a"; ardent wishes of. My dear Lord, Your very sincere and faithful friend, G. P. THE 'ENGLISH YEomhN.—Theto no class of men, If times are but tolerably good! t i t enjoy themselves so highly as farmers. Th e y are litt le kings; their concerns are not huddled into a ca ner :, as those of the town tradesm en are . I n t own , InartY:" man who turns thousands of pound s p er wee k i s hema"" in close by buildings, and cuts no figure at all. A ° er re row shop, a contracted warehouse, without an inch 7, room besides to turn in, on any hand, without a P r. " a stable, or outhouse of any description_perbsP: hoisted aloft, up three or four dirty pair of stairs!_ all the room thatt he wealthy tradesman can bless ha , '" self with ; and there, day after day, month af ter month, and year after year, he is to be found, like a ray in the hole of a wall, or a toad in the heart of a 6 0°6 or of an oak tree. Spring and summer and auta r l -go round, sunshine and flowers spread over the wo r t the sweetest breezes blow, the sweetest waters a°" along the vales, but they are all lost upon him ; b e i , S I the doleful prisoner of Mammon, and so he lives and dies. The farmer would not take the wealth the world on such terms; his concerns, hower e " small, spread themselves out in a pleasant amplitu de ' both to his eye and heart ; his house stands in its own. stately solitude ; his offices and outhouses stand ro una extensively, without any stubborn and limiting con traction. His acres stretch over hill and vale; th ere his flocks and herds are feeding, there his labour er ' are toiling—he is king and solo commander there- - : 11° lives amongst the purest air and most delicious clu te.... Often, when I see those healthy, h ar dy, full_groa l, sons of the soil going out of town, I envy. then' the, freshness and the repose of th e spo t s w h ere the} going to. Ample old-fashioned kitchens, with sea 004' chimney corners of true proje c ti ng- b eame d and , construction, still remaining, blazing fires in w inte shining on suspended hams and flitches ; gulls 01 ' 1 : ported on hooks above, dogs b a sking on the hea rt , below. Cool shady parlours in summer, with windows, and odours from garden•and shrubbery 19in . : fr ing in ; gardens wet with purest dews, an t 4 htt at noontide wills bees ; and the green fields. verdurous roses, or deep woodlands, lying all aroll iP , ; where an hundred rejoicing voices Of birds au' 011 . ° 11 creatures are heard, and w in d s bowing tb and fur. y iu _,„ of health, and life, and enjoyments. Ifow t nviable.; such places seem to th e fretted . spirits of towils compelled not only to bear their burdens of carc• to enter daily into the public strife again.t e,ll. and ever-spfeading corruption.—llotviliV the Seasons. ANCIENT CA lITIIAGE.—Sir Gr en ; yule Temple, who a few days ago arrived in th'` l4 .s from Tunic, on board the Ottoman frigate Surieh. ~ elnll'nYed himself for the last six months in in 3 excavations on the classic soil of Cariliage-La c it y , ,, t of mere mention of whose name awakens in the I ,o° ' it wli; .11 every scholar a thousand ri . collections of glory, n d once adorned the mistress of the African sea''' 8 1 ._ the imnur tal rival of the Roman lie public bourn have beer; well rewarded bY the pectiliarlY ' l "e resting disecivericti he has tirade.' Among then , b. may notice, that on the site o f the 'temple of G3n 3t o f, or Juno Ccelestis, the great protecting. di.vinitY Carthage, he found about 700 co i ns, and - varioys (1, jests of glass and earth enware. But the most VT 4f able, and perhaps least expected of his disc over ' es l a that of a vide, situated on the sea-shore, and 15 feet under ground. Eight rooms are coili cleared, and thei r s i ze and decorations pro ve th at • house belonged to a wealthy personage. The '" 4.1 fn ere painted, and, the floors are beautifully l' e ` ` • ; mosaic, in the same manner i.s those a t Herculaneum, representing a great variety of 6uj' re rt such as mari ne d e i t i es, both male ant i f e male, d tt l t ,vit li species of sea .fi s h , marine plants, a wave' w„d, female figures dancing on deck, and surrounded by ,Tar miring warriors; other portions rei,re."3 lh ,lies,; horses, leopards, ti gers , deer, zebros, bears , g a s. r i hares, ducks, herons, and the like. Ten human , o : the tons, apparently of those slain during the assault „we . city, werefouno in the different chambers. Sir Gre.o pf also discovered in another house other mos,iii4 great interest. These represent gladiators Conte"l is in the arena with wild beasts, and over well 1 0 .. " .. „, written his name. In another pert are seen rf iiis our races, and men breaking in young horses. oblige us to res:riet these details; but we 1 ,0 11 i l l deed we understand. that Sir G..etiville Ternl:ole.tot shottly publish a complete account of his Uhl and extniorttinary discoverics.-2u'alta Gazette. I A sow belonging to Mr. C 9ll9 "t , 4 ,10 ,1 tenant of Longdale, near Carron; lately P r twenty-four young ones at a litter, Which A" living anti thriving. and to, 'onti nn thron g }, Conde m and tlii